


A Night In Your Arms

by Uraviity



Category: Boku no Hero Academia, My Hero Academia, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Eventual smuy, F/M, Kissing, Romance, Slow Dancing, but I had a dream about slow dancing with Aizawa, like next chapter smut, slight world building, sorry if this is a bit incoherent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-04 05:06:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14585598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uraviity/pseuds/Uraviity
Summary: An impromteau slowdancing session with Aizawa gets a little bit heated.Extract: Aizawa hums along to the song, taking the time to pitch his voice just right so that the vibrations tremble through your chest too. As the first verse swells his voice breaks forth and he smiles whilst singing to you.





	A Night In Your Arms

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this in a fit of passion after having a dream about slow dancing with aizawa. admittedly the dream was much shorter, less philosophical and more pg than this fic but it was the root of this none the less. 
> 
> i’d like to suggest listening to “coming home” by leon bridges. you don’t have to but it’s the song i imagine this being set to
> 
> also, one last thing before the good shit starts! thank you to mraizawa from instagram for helping me make this a reality by suggesting i should write the dream up!!!!
> 
> enjoy <333

"Coming Home" by Leon Bridges

Fragile as petals he holds you in his arms, as if afraid that with too much pressure you may break. Still, you feel his hands, steady as his nerve, against your waist. He’d once told you that he felt as if you could slip between the cracks of his fingers all too easily. Yet despite this his fingertips only ever ghost over your figure. Even if you wished him to hold you closer, tighter, you know his softness is warranted. A pro hero can’t be too careful with the object of his affections, can he? But you envy those who’s lovers can be carefree with them always. Shouta, as diligent of a lover as he is, fears himself to be a monster when it came to intimacy. Never too rough, never too forward, never demanding. He didn’t take unless he was offered first and sometimes you long for him to consume you and deliver you unto rapture without warning. But then, if he did, would he really be your Aizawa? Probably not. Perhaps you might voice these desires when a flash of courage strikes, but for now you file them away to focus better on the moment at hand. 

Aizawa hums along to the song, taking the time to pitch his voice just right so that the vibrations tremble through your chest too. As the first verse swells his voice breaks forth and he smiles whilst singing to you. The lyrics are so apt to your relationship that it feels too cliched for him to be serenading you like this. But he does and you bask in the timbre of his voice. Your eyes slide closed as you imagine the perfect world where the two of you could dance like this every night. As the chorus kicks in your voice joins his, a little rough from disuse but strong and sweet. Breaking from your revere, your eyes lock with Aizawa’s and the two of you share a brief kiss that’s filled with adoration and tinged with a smile. 

In your cramped, grimy kitchen, the two of you sway, caught in the ebb and flow of the song. Hands intertwined, your head rests on his shoulder, serenity exudes from the two of you as you revel in each other’s touch. The beat comes slowly and drifts as if caught like driftwood in the tide. It’s so... peaceful. Never, not once, did you think that your beloved Shouta would find peace. Like finding gold in the rush, peace was elusive these days and when found it was small and fragile. All Might’s reign had come to an end and with it came swathes of villains (of varying sizes, shapes and quirks) vying for attention and glory. Combat became an everyday occurrence and, to put it delicately, you weren’t combat suited. Coming into bloom during an altercation was hardly intimidating, but Shouta? Your beloved had been in high demand, a new product for consumption, another band aid for the gaping wound of villainy. You despised each any every time he had to apologise and dissapear in the middle of the night. Every time he left you (even if the make up sex was heavenly). For an underground hero far too many people were getting familiar with his face. Anonymity was a shade he wore well, fame was less flattering. You could barely keep the snarl from your lips, there was merchandise now. You noted that they always forgot the pale crescent scar that nestled below the slope of his eye, that awful reminder that the spirit of a warrior settled between Aizawa’s ribs. Through all this you came to realise something. No hero was human anymore. They were not judged as humans are, but as gods. Omnipresent, able to save everyone, able to deal with the aftermath if they couldn’t. It made you sick. It had happened with Toshinori, ‘The pillar of justice’. His folly stemmed from the masses idolising his selflessness. From fans fanning the flames of his success into infernos that burnt villainy to a crisp and singed the fingers of the torch bearer. Now it is Aizawa’s turn to suffer the same fate. 

As if noticing your drifting thoughts, Shouta lifts your chin and places a feathery kiss to your lips, a ghost of the heat that haunts you so dearly. It brings an absent minded smile to your lips. He was always too perceptive. 

“Tell me.” He doesn’t need to say anything more, he never has to. By now the two of you act as a tandem, balanced and synchronised. But there’s something in his tone; a patience edged by annoyance. For all your synchronicity he still had to ask what was wrong, he still can’t snap his fingers and make the world bend to your whims. You smile wider for his efforts. 

“I miss us, before the world went to shit.” Your voice holds some note of melancholia. It brings a genuine smile to your lovers face, the man obviously amused by your declaration. The two of you had once lived free without a care in the world. Admittedly, the last time Aizawa had ever been properly carefree was your school years. More innocent times.

“You say that as if the world wasn’t shit before.” He snorts ungraciously and you find yourself delighted. Laughs were so hard to draw from Aizawa’s pursed lips, so much so that any sign of humour is wonderful. You think to yourself, he’s in a good mood. Not many would take such a pessimistic statement for something benign but you knew your Shouta well enough. If he was cracking wise he was in a favourable mood. That thought worms it’s way into your head as the chorus of the song reverberates through the room once more. Without warning you lean upwards. Lips pressing shallowly against Aizawa’s own, you can feel him smile into the kiss before parting your rosebud lips with his blushed tongue. It slips along the seam of your pout before poking at your own, prompting your tongue to dance with his. Like with all things you find your perfect rhythm. In sync, your mouths move against each other and you submit to him. He consumes you whole; as if you were the last drop of water and he some thirstful vagabond. Whilst he dominates your mouth, your hands creep in opposite directions. One tangles itself amongst Shouta’s thick hair, tugging lightly on the base of his skull. It was marvellous how well kept the locks were. Clean and dense and perfect to hold onto when things got heated. The pull earns you a quietened moan and a quick nip on the lips from your lover. He pulls back, a fire burning in his eyes, and mutters; “Do that again”. Who could say no to such a request? You give another gentle pull and put your recently freed mouth to Aizawa’s neck, running your hot tongue along the (now exposed) underside of this throat. The growl that beckons forth from him travels straight to your core. 

“Calm down now Shouta, we have neighbours to think about.” You tease. Apparently not appreciative of your humour, Shouta pulls your face from the crook of his neck and nips at your lips. His hand holds your face, encompassing it in its entirety. God you hope he was as riled up as he seemed. The night was always fun when Aizawa had a few frustrations to take out on you. 

Seeing the shift in your eyes from playful to challenging, Aizawa moves his hand from your face and slips it onto your wrist instead, leading you by the appendage to the bed room. He turned just before he could catch a glimpse of the shit eating grin that wormed its way into your lips. Tonight was going to be a very pleasant affair.

**Author's Note:**

> any comments and critiques are welcome!!! let me know the good, the bad, and the ugly so i can improve next time xx
> 
> edit (2/05/18): thank you guys for 500 reads and 30+ kudos!!! it means so much to me y’all don’t even know (^_^)


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